


And Then There Wasn't

by ithinktoomuch4438



Series: And Then There Wasn't [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, Episode: s08e01 We Need to Talk About Kevin, Graphic description of birth, I'm so sorry, M/M, Mentions of past Dean/Sam, Mpreg, Sam never met Amelia or hit a dog, The baby dies, Violent Birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:16:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ithinktoomuch4438/pseuds/ithinktoomuch4438
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks Sam abandoned him in purgatory and stopped hunting to go live some apple pie life. He doesn't even know how wrong he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then There Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

> Had this little idea running around my head for a couple of days and had to type it out. Please leave comments and tell me if you like it, because I may consider writing a sequel to fix the pain I've cause with this fic. This idea is completely my own, and any and all mistakes are mine. I don't own these characters, all rights to them belong to The CW.

“So what was it?” Dean asked. “What could possibly make you stop, just like that, hm?” Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn't want to have this conversation. 

“What, a girl?” He asked. Sam froze, eyes flashing. Dean's eyes went a little wide, the set of his mouth giving away his displeasure at being right. “Was there a girl, Sam?”

He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout and cry and tell Dean that yes, there was a girl. There was a beautiful, perfect, tiny little baby girl with moms curls and Sam's nose and Deans brilliant gemstone eyes. He wanted to tell her that she was dead now.

* * *

They'd known Sam was able to conceive and carry children since he was sixteen. It was rare for men to have this ability, but not completely unheard of. Of course, male pregnancies had their risks. Premature birth, anemia, preeclampsia, low birth weight, high mortality rate...the list went on. Things that were rare in a normal, healthy womans pregnancy were common among male pregnancies. So when Dean and Sam had eventually started the romantic side of their relationship years later, they agreed that the physical risks combined with the obvious problems that came with raising a kid in the hunting life made children an impossible dream. They'd used condoms from day one, and were always careful to mind Sam's cycle. 

But they messed up.

It was a stupid mistake, the kind often made in desperate situations. They had just burned Bobby's flask, had finally lost him for good, and the next day they were heading out to kill Dick Roman. That night they needed each other badly, and in their haste to get close they'd forgotten a condom. Sam didn't even realize it until the next morning, but he brushed it off immediately. They had bigger things to worry about, and males had a notoriously difficult time conceiving in the first place. One night without a condom wasn't going to do anything.

He found out how completely wrong he was about a month later. He'd been miserable since Dean disappeared, barely even able to move he was so grief stricken. Then he started getting sick. He was throwing up morning, noon, and night, couldn't keep food down for the life of him. He went to see a doctor after almost two weeks of this, and it was there he got the news. He was pregnant. 

He couldn't even think of getting rid of it. This baby was his and Deans, and with Dean gone, he wanted it more than ever. In some weird way, he started to think of this baby as God's apology to him. After taking away Dean, again, he'd gifted Sam with a little piece of his brother. Something to hold on to, to keep fighting for. Barely a week after getting the news he was out of the shitty motel he'd been staying at and into a small two bedroom apartment across town. He held a steady job doing basic repairs at the motel he'd moved out of, and he managed to pull in just enough to keep himself fed and to stock up on a minor amount of baby things. He painted the nursery alone, picked out a crib and toys and read every pregnancy book he could get his hands on. He took prenatal vitamins, exercised, saw his doctor regularly, and did everything and anything he could to keep himself and his baby healthy. His pregnancy was going exceptionally well, and by his eighth month he was convinced that he'd finally caught a break. And then the bomb dropped. 

He woke up in the middle of night inexplicably. At first he thought it was a nightmare, or maybe something he heard outside. He sat up, planning to go do a once over of the apartment when the pain hit him. It was awful, a horrible cramping sensation tearing up the inside of him. He started to panic as he realized he was having a contraction, and he barely had the sense to call 911. When he turned on the light to grab his phone, he saw that his sleep pants were soaked in bloody amniotic fluid, and his anxiety turned into a full blown panic attack. He dropped the phone when another contraction went through him, crying out in pain when the urge to push hit. He struggled to even out his breathing even as his brain repeated the horrible mantra 'It's too soon, she's too little, its too soon'. He tried to resist the urge to push, but it was too late. His water had broken, and he could feel his daughter crowning. The baby was coming now.

Mary Deanna Winchester was born at 3:47am, on Sunday, January 8th, 2012. Sam held her tiny body in his arms as she sucked in her first breath and started crying, the sound weak and soft as a kittens mewl when it should have been strong and loud. Sam cried with her, holding her close to him and wrapping her up in his sheets, trying to keep her warm. Her skin looked too thin, each tiny vein visible. Her limbs were thin and frail, barely any muscle or fat clinging too them, and she felt like she barely even weighed three pounds. Sam knew just from the sound of her cries that she wouldn't live long. Still, he managed to grab the phone and dial 911, a small flutter of hope in his stomach trying to convince him that Mary could survive this. Just as he hung up, his daughter opened her eyes, reveling the bright green orbs that were almost a carbon copy of her fathers. Sam laughed out loud, smiling despite himself and smoothing a hand over the thin hair on her head. She was beautiful.

Mary died in Sam's arms minutes before the EMT's showed up. Her little wails turned to coughs, and her breathing slowed and quieted until she finally whimpered a last cry and closed her beautiful green eyes forever. In the following week Sam would hear the explanation for his daughters death a million and one times. 'Premature births are common with men.'. 'It was probably a fluke.'. 'Nothing you did.'. ' Her lungs were simply too small, under developed.'. 'There was nothing you could have done.'. 

The explanations didn't matter. Dean was gone, and now their baby was dead. There was no explanation for that, no reasoning that could ever make him feel okay again. He buried her in the woods, near the spot where Dean and him had gone on their first camping trip alone together, back when they were kids. There were wildflowers and sunlight and a small stream nearby, and he marked her grave with a small cross he made from river rocks. The spot was peaceful, a beautiful resting place for a beautiful baby. Sam didn't cry till he was driving away. 

* * *

Sam is shaken from his memories by Dean's voice.

“Was there a girl, Sammy?” He asked, eyes accusing. If only he knew. Sam sighed, casting his eyes downward for a moment to gather himself, and when his gaze met Deans again, there was ice in it.

“Yeah, there was. And then there wasn't.”


End file.
